


Pressure

by Caitlinsheedy



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Death, Depression, Drinking to Cope, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Eating Disorders, Excessive Drinking, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Matty Dies, Sexual Content, Touring, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-06 11:46:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5415743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitlinsheedy/pseuds/Caitlinsheedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the 1st of June, 2015 Matthew Healy, frontman of band The 1975 overdosed. He left nothing but the legacy of a legend, a broken band and one final wish. <br/>He wished for them not to stop. Not to give up just because of his idiocy. <br/>They were to continue on, with Matty's disheveled and broken hearted lover, Izzy, in their mix, to prove that anything can live forever. If not people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**June 1st 2015. 1:45am.**

**Edinburgh**

George sat in the courtyard, trying desperately to make his shaking hands bring the lit cigarette to his quivering lips.

_"Please George. Don't tell anyone. Please. You'll always be my brother. I'll always love you... George just don't tell anyone."_

His best friend's last words echoed through his mind, bouncing around with such velocity that it physically hurt.

He dropped the smoke as a black Mercedes screeched to a halt and two men fell from the doors without even turning the engine off.

Adam Hann and Ross MacDonald stumbled their way towards George, pausing only long enough for him to squeak, in the smallest voice he'd ever produced. "Matty's gone."

The three men fell into each other, a mound of sobs knelt outside the emergency department as doctors worked uselessly on a lifeless body.

It was a common, though completely heartbreaking scene for the nurses who watched with tears in their eyes, but for the men, this was the most horrible, gut wrenching, blood curdling night of their lives.

_"Make sure Izzy takes my place, George. It's gotta be Izzy. Just please, don't let her know I did this to myself. I want her to think I was strong."_


	2. I.J.H.

**June 1st 2015. 2:44am.**

**Edinburgh**

"His mother will be here in a couple hours. She had to pull his little brother from a shoot and she's driving all the way from Manchester." Jamie and John had arrived not even 10 minutes after Hann and Ross. "His Dad should be here by tomorrow afternoon. He's coming from London. And his girlfriend should be here around the same time as his mum."

They were the only ones who'd said anything for the past hour, the other boys capable of nothing more than smoking, sobbing and occasionally hugging.

Matty's death had been ruled an overdose and they'd been allowed to see him.

Hann, Ross and George had fixed his hair and shirt, knowing that Matty _wouldn't be seen dead_ looking like he had.

They'd also set a radio up to play his favourite songs on repeat, tucked a pack of cigarettes into his pocket and sat a bottle of the most expensive red wine they could track down on the table beside him.

"What'd he take?" Hann whispered. The boys were all sitting on the ground of his room, their heads resting against the stark, white wall.

"What didn't he take? Cocaine, LSD, heroin, alcohol, a shit load of synthetics." All of their voices were hoarse and painful and George's whole body felt like hell. They'd played a show not even 6 hours ago, and now here they were. Stuck in Edinburgh with a piece of themselves laid out on a table.

A disturbance outside caught their attention, a screech so high and intense it could only belong to one person they knew. "NO. NO HE CAN'T BE DEAD." Matty's girlfriend, Isabella Hunter burst through the door of his room, Jamie hot on her heels.

She fell to her knees at the side of his bed, a violent sob erupting from her. She screeched his name and clawed at the bedsheets until her body couldn't even take kneeling anymore.

George saw it coming and he dove to catch her before her head hit the tiles.

They stayed like that for a while, his best friend and his lover, crying under his dead body. A complete trainwreck.

**June 1st 2015. 4:15 am**

"So you drove what should've been a three hour drive, in an hour and a half, by yourself, after finding out that your boyfriend had just died?" Jamie was kneeling in front of Izzy, her tear streaked face gripped between his hands.

She looked like shit. To put it nicely.

Curled up in a waiting room seat wearing ripped black skinny jeans, a sweatshirt, her frizzy, dirty blonde hair pulled back into a messy bun and makeup smudged all over her face. "What did you expect me to do, Jamie? Take my time? George called me worried out of his mind because Matty was unconscious on the fucking bathroom floor one minute and then you call not even half an hour later and tell me he's dead? I'm not gonna fuck around."

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying that maybe if you'd hitched with Denise? Taken it in turns driving. Would've been a lot safer for both of you." In all honesty, Izzy hadn't been thinking much about anyone's safety when she'd been going over twice the speed limit, fighting a complete breakdown for over an hour.

Isabella Joan Hunter was a masterpiece in her own right. It'd been her appearance that'd captured Matty, but her initial fierce aversion to him that'd kept him.

Of course she'd known who he was, everyone knew who Matty Healy was. But did she want anything to do with him? Not in the slightest.

She'd been 17 when they'd met at a music festival, the girl, only there because she'd been given tickets, who'd somehow made it into the front row of the band's set.

Matty had tracked her down, like many before her, and he'd tried to the best of his capabilities to seduce her right then and there. But Izzy wasn't budging.

He'd spent the rest of the three day festival trying until finally, she'd given him her number in a field full of drunks, listening to a band neither of them really cared about.

The first eight months of their relationship were tough. He cheated, so she cheated... With one of his best friends. He'd yell, she'd break something. He'd write a song about her, she'd write two about him.

It was vicious and passionate and intense... But it was them, and they loved it.

Izzy had been living in George and Matty's flat since the start, and they'd been just looking for their own place when the band had left for their British tour.

They were due back home in a week. No one realised that one of them, would never make it.

Matty's mother and little brother entered then, and neither of them had time to get half way down the hallway before they were enveloped in hugs. George went straight for Louis, dropping to his knees so he was closer to the boy's height, and both Hann and Ross encircling Denise.

Izzy stood, swaying a little ways back as everyone else lined up to embrace them.

All of the staff shuffled quietly around, averting their eyes and trying to keep their distance as much as was possible while still keeping an eye on the situation. Iz had already needed medical attention twice since she'd been here, both times she'd fallen, the second, no one had been there to stop her from hitting the ground.

"Hey kiddo..." Denise had broken away from the band and was now standing in front of Izzy.

A small sob escaped from Izzy's lips, and Denise immediately pulled her into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Denise. I swear I thought he was off them, I swear."

"He was, Iz." George had joined them as well, his hand taking up most of her tiny back as he tried - to no avail - to choke back his own tears. "He'd been clean for nearly a year until tonight."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Isabelle knew that she should be the one comforting them. She'd known Matty for two years, they'd loved him for their entire lives. "You have nothing to be sorry for. He made his choice, and it was the wrong one." Denise was choking on her words, her hand gripping at "her Belle's" - as she'd taken to calling Izzy - hair.

That only made her cry harder. Matty had done that all the time. He'd been obsessed with her hair and he'd have his hands buried in it at any opportunity he could. "And we all know our boy wasn't the best at decision making."

Denise had taken to Izzy straight away, though it'd taken longer for her to accept the relationship she'd shared with her son. Izzy was seven years younger than Matty, and it had always been a massive issue for Denise.

Matty had always liked younger girls, and Izzy had been no exception.

"Louis." She gasped, coming to her senses for a quick moment.

The fourteen year old looked so much like Matty that it made her stop for a moment before taking his face into her hands. "Don't go in there Louis. Don't go in and see him, remember him as the person who left last month, okay?"

"I need to..." He replied, his small hands shaking by his sides. "I need to see him, I can't just leave things how we did, Iz. I need to say goodbye and I need to be able to hold his hand and hug him, one last time." His eyes were red and heavy from the few hours it had taken them to drive here, and as they filled with tears again, Izzy pulled him into her chest.

Louis' arms stayed by his sides as she held him, Denise and George watching on, his arm around her shoulders and her's around his waist. "You're sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

His determination triggered something in Izzy. "We need to start calling people." She all of a sudden barked, standing and looking around frantically.

"Iz, it hasn't even been five hours yet... No one's in any state to be calling anybody." George was shaking from head to toe and under his red and swollen eyes hung dark circles.

Izzy immediately turned around at his denial, marching off to find Jamie at a vending machine. "Jamie," She began, her hand swiping away the last tear that she'd cry for a while.

"Oh! You scared me, you okay?" He'd been leaning against the machine with his head in one hand and a coffee in the other.

"The accounts. They still hooked up to do the disappearing act?"

Matty had picked a hell of a time to go. The band had been planning this "revolution" for at least two years now, and today had been the day. The boys had worked tirelessly on a plan to bring in their new, pink aesthetic, and everything was supposed to happen in less than two hours.

"Shit! Oh my god, fuck." He immediately pulled his phone out and was talking within seconds.

"Izzy, sit down." Hann came up behind her, grabbing her arm as she whirled to leave. " _Izzy_."

Her full lips were set into a hard line and her eyes felt like a mass of bee stings, but she was determined to do something. _Anything_. "I don't need to sit down, I need a cigarette. You coming?"

Hann rarely smoked, but still, he turned around, meeting Ross, and then George's eyes, gesturing to the door with his head and then bringing his hand to his lips to simulate smoking.

They nodded and mouthed that they'd be out in a moment.

Hann and Izzy made their way towards the door. They were like two sides of the same coin, one tall, one not, but both stick thin. One shy and one not, but both socially awkward. They could both play guitar riffs that no one else could even dream of. They even had the same shade of hair.

"You know," He began, holding the door for the younger girl. "He really did love you. None of this was your fault, it was a stupid mistake, he thought his body would be able to handle the amount of shit he used to put it through, but it couldn't." Hann hesitated for a moment before pressing the cigarette to his lips. "I guess. I wasn't with him."

There was a heaviness to his words, a sense of regret and guilt. Like maybe he thought that if he'd been there, Matty wouldn't be dead right now.

Izzy wrapped her arm around Hann's waist, laying her head against his bony shoulder. "I know."

George and Ross joined them soon after, George wrapping his arm around both of them, and Ross around him.

"What are we gonna do now?" Ross asked after his first and last smoke.

"Keep going." George replied. He was already onto his third cigarette, and he didn't seem to be showing any signs of slowing down. "Matty told me that we need to keep going."

Death and loss have strange affects on some people, it leaves them scrubbed raw, reminded of their own mortality and just how temporary life is. It gives them a new purpose, even if they don't know it yet.


	3. Wake up call

**July 16th 2015.**

**12:45 pm.**

**London.**

46 days.

46 days since Matty had died.

46 days since thousands of people had felt the shockwave he'd left in his wake.

46 days since Izzy's heart had been completely ripped from inside her.

40 days since the funeral.

39 days since Izzy had been outside.

7 days since she'd left her room.

4 days since she'd slept.

3 days since she'd eaten.

Nothing had changed in that room since she'd left it on the 1st of June. Matty's clothes still took up most of the cupboard room, one of his guitars sat in the corner and the letter he'd written her the morning he'd left sat in a frame on the dresser, along with every one he'd written before.

_Dear Isabella Joan,_

_I'm leaving tomorrow, and you know me, I have my traditions, so here we go, another tour, another letter._

_You're sleeping next to me right now, and you look so incredibly beautiful. I've already written a poem about you tonight, but that just wasn't enough. I can't handle the thought that I'll have to wake up everyday for the next month without you beside me._

_Instead I'll have George and his bad morning breath. Nice._

_As you know, I fully intend on spending the rest of my life with you, and one day, maybe years or even decades from now, I'll make you a Healy._

_Or Healy-Hunter, or Hunter-Healy. It's the 21st century so whatever you want, I'm fine with it._

_Even if we don't get married, we can just be that couple who are perpetually fighting or fucking. Fuck I'll miss that..._

_The fucking, not the fighting._

_Well, I might even miss that a bit. Might have to pick on Hann even more to make up for it... Sorry I'm rambling and tired, and you're probably rolling your eyes and laughing while reading this and I wish, more than anything that I was there to see that. Oh the sacrifices we make for our art._

_I guess the point I'm trying to make is, we're soulmates, baby girl._

_I'd say you put the stars in the sky, but you didn't. You stole them from the sky and put them into your eyes, your smile, your hair, you._

_You are my love._

_I don't believe in God, neither do you. But I believe in you, and you believe in me. That's all we need. And art, we have that too._

_You saved me when I didn't want to be saved, and I thank you for that. If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead. I already was, emotionally._

_I'm sorry for everything I've done to you. The cheating, being away so much, not being with you kills me._

_I'd say sorry for being such an asshole, but you're a bit of one too, so we're even there._

_Y_ _ou are a masterpiece. You're poetry, you're my saviour and you're one of the only good things left._

_You're the light at the end of the tunnel and you deserve so much better than me, and yet you stay. Thank you so fucking much for staying._

_Don't cry when I'm gone babe. I know it'll feel like hell, but just remember that you're strong and that I miss you just as much as you miss me._

_Next time you see me, everything will have changed, and things will be hard, but so much better._

_Keep Louis in line while I'm gone, make sure Mum doesn't start drinking again and pet Lola when G can't._

_Izzy, I thought I just woke you up, but you've just moved yourself into my lap._

_The sun's already starting to come up, and we left the curtains open in the hurry last night._

_The sunrise is throwing the most incredible shade of red onto your back right now love, red suits you so well. I'm gonna buy you something red while I'm away, something designer, straight from the runway._

_It won't compare to your beauty, and you know I'll always prefer you naked, but it'll do._

_Wear my shirts while I'm away, they look so much better on you (probably because they were made for women) and wear your hair naturally curly, it looks so gorgeous._

_I promise I'll never hurt you again, and remember; you'll always be my Isabella Joan._

_The Alabama to my Clarence._

_I love you more than life baby._

_F_ _orever (and ever), Matty._

That letter had been read every morning and every night before he'd died, but not even once since June.

Izzy was laying in the double bed, pillows packed beside her. She couldn't sleep without someone beside her, so she'd snuggle into the pillows and try to imagine Matty there. Sometimes Lola, George's dog came in and laid with her. But lately even that hadn't been working.

A knock on the door sounded, pulling her from the daze she'd been in. "Iz? Come out for a second?" George called through the door.

He'd come to check on her a few times a day, bringing food and coffee, and then clearing them away when she didn't touch them. "Just come in, George, I don't wanna move."

He hesitated before opening the door, and even further before entering. "How you doing?"

"I'm alright." Izzy was far from alright. Her hair hadn't left the bun it was in for the past week and she was only wearing one of George's old shirts that she'd found in her draw.

"No you're not. You haven't eaten or slept in forever and you haven't left the flat in a month." He'd come to sit on the bed beside where she was wrapped around a pillow.

"Says you. You think I can't hear the new girls every night?" She tried to roll over, but as soon as she moved a wave of dizziness set in.

George set his hand on her shoulder, looking at her with worry on his face before speaking, "Don't move. I'll be back."

He left the room quickly, leaving the door open.

The term 'Hot mess' described him perfectly at the moment. His hair was half blonde, half brown and he hadn't shaved for at least a week.

He'd lost weight in his face and had a constant aroma of cigarettes and tequila.

Izzy had managed to move herself into a position so that she could watch him in the kitchen, her head resting on her arms. "You've lost weight, G. Your pants actually fit you now."

"Maybe I just got a bigger size. Easier for all those girls I bring back home to get off." He joked, making his way back into the room with a glass of water and a slice of cake. "Denise came around yesterday, it's good."

"I don't wa-"

"Eat." He shut her down with a glare more intense than anything she'd seen for months.

He'd even put a straw in her water so she didn't need to move that much, and she smiled dryly up at him. "Thanks."

"Okay, so, when you eat, you're gonna have a shower and get dressed then we're going out." It was even more obvious how much weight he'd lost up close.

Wearing a shirt that'd been big on him before, it practically swam on his 6'5" form. "George-"

"Nope. No excuses, you'll love me for it after you hear what I've got planned." He winked before leaving, the door still wide open.

Izzy let out a small sigh before sitting up. Her hands were shaking violently, as they had been for over a month, and her eyes looked hollow.

"The boys will be here in half an hour, so unless you want Ross annoying you while you shower, I suggest you get in there quickly." George called from somewhere in the flat, a rap album starting to play.

Izzy looked at the cupboard, debating wether she felt brave enough to face Matty's clothes in pursuit of something decent to wear. Eventually she decided against it, instead heading shakily for the ensuite.

She had to sit down in the shower, her legs had grown weak from the lack of movement and nutrients.

The bones of her hips and ribs jutted out beneath sallow skin, and two years ago, she would've been proud.

It took three washes to get her hair presentable and she was still sat on the black tiles when Hann and Ross arrived. "Isabella Hunter! Get your little butt out here so we can go!" Ross called, knocking on the door.

"Leave her alone, Ross." Hann chuckled, making Izzy smile slightly before gathering enough strength to turn the shower off and wrap a towel around herself before opening the door.

All three of the boys were in her room, Ross with his fist raised to knock again, Hann sitting on the bed with his hands tucked between his knees and George leaning against the wall, looking out the newly opened window.

Ross looked taken aback by her sudden appearance and lack of clothing, whereas Hann grinned up at her. "Hey Iz." He greeted.

They both looked exactly the same as the last time she'd seen them a week ago, both incredibly tall, though no where near as tall as George and both extremely rugged.

"Hey, you guys know where George intends on dragging us?" She rustled in a draw for a pair of old sweat pants and a shirt from her old high school, before heading back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open.

"I think you severely overestimate our self control." Ross laughed, moving to sprawl on the bed behind Hann.

None of them could see into the bathroom from where they were, so Izzy didn't really see the point of shutting the roller. "You didn't answer my question, and I'm fairly sure you've all seen a naked woman before."

They all laughed as she walked back in, fully dressed. "Okay that's not gonna work, you need a different shirt." George scratched at the back of his neck before gesturing to the cupboard for permission.

Iz nodded hesitantly. That cupboard hadn't been touched for weeks. It was where Matty and Izzy had kept their "nice" clothes, so she'd been living in sweat pants and loose shirts or jumpers.

He threw her a cropped t-shirt with 'GROUPIE' written on it in big, black letters. "Just put that on. The pants are fine."

"You always were our groupie, Iz. Now it's official." Hann chuckled as she turned towards the wall to change.

She'd left her hair out, and George sat his cap on her head. "You look good, thin. Really thin, but good." He smiled down at her, a full grin of crooked teeth and pink lips.

Over the last couple of years, she'd been practically adopted by the boys. They'd all taken to her straight away, and God help anyone who ever tried to mess with her... Except for them.

She'd been the victim of many practical jokes over the years, and she was constantly treated like their younger sibling. "Alright, come on we've got to be there in an hour." George laughed, clapping his massive hands onto Izzy's tiny shoulders.

"You're lucky I like you guys." She shuffled along, letting George push her, grabbing a pair of sunglasses on her way out.

"You're lucky I like you. You'd be out on the streets otherwise." George lead her to the door before running around in front of her. "Now prepare yourself, Hunter. You've not been outside in a month, the world has changed, it's a cruel place full of sunlight and actual people..." Ross fake gasped and Hann laughed as G opened the door in an overly exaggerated fashion.

Even the dull amount of sunlight that was peaking through the thick cloud coverage made Izzy wince, "Alright?" Hann whispered as she paused, Ross and George already fighting over who was driving. "Like, physically, we all know you're not good mentally."

"I feel like shit, but I don't think I really have much of a choice." She replied moving down the stairs slowly, Hann treading carefully behind her.

"We're just worried about you, thought it'd be good for you to get out for the day." As they stepped onto the wet concrete, Hann moved to walk beside her and Izzy looked up at him.

The two slid into the backseat to wait out Ross and George's argument, Izzy laying her head against the cool window. "Iz?"

"Mm?"

"You look like shit."

"So do you, and Hann?"

"Yeah?"

"You stink of beer."


End file.
